I Solemnly Swear: Year One
by Maggie 'Marauder' Weasley
Summary: We've all heard the fantastical tales of the Marauders, Hogwarts' finest pranksters. But their story runs much deeper than just a group of friends who became popular in their school days. It's the promises they made that matter most... (First Year)
1. Chapter One: A Black Beginning

_**A/N: **_**This is my first publicly shared FanFiction. (To read more about my first _attempts_ at writing FanFics, see my bio...)  
><strong>**Let**** me lay it all out. I have a very extravagant plot line laid out, to some extent. I have done the math and come up with a few figures. My ****current story line has a plot involving: 1 Alternate Universe, 3 Generations, at least 12 Original Characters, and a total of about 25 Books. Go ahead, call me crazy.**

**I Know I'll Be In Slytherin,**

_**~M.J.W.**_

_**I Solemnly Swear**_

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><p><strong>Chapter One – A Black Beginning<strong>

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><p>There was a street in London lined on one side by tall, expensive-looking buildings. If you walked along the opposite side of the street, you would come across a small, grassy area that could be called a park. Look across the street, and you would find yourself staring up at Number 11, Grimauld Place. To the left of this was Number 10; to the right, however, was Number 13. It would appear, to the ordinary person, that someone had - perhaps - made a mistake when they numbered the buildings. Or perhaps Number 12, Grimauld Place had never existed in the first place.<p>

The fact was that Number 12, Grimauld Place, was exactly where it was supposed to be. It was simply not possible to see the building. You see, the house in question was, in fact, inhabited by a wealthy, pureblood family of wizards known as the Blacks. And, at the moment, eleven-year-old Sirius Orion Black was dreaming of the next day, when he would be starting his academic career at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

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><p><strong><em>~ S ~ O ~ B ~<em>**

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><p>A loud crack rent the air, rudely and unceremoniously interrupting Sirius' sleep. He sat bolt-upright, got caught in a tangle of sheets, and toppled with a shout onto the floor. He lifted his head and glared at the house-elf standing in the middle of his room. Kreacher smirked at him.<p>

"The Mistress wishes for you to be washed, dressed, and down for breakfast in half an hour," he said, his eyes glinting. "You will be leaving for King's Cross Station in one hour's time. That is all." Before Sirius could leap to his feet and wring the damned house-elf's neck, Kreacher snapped his fingers and vanished with another loud crack. Grumbling, Sirius detangled himself from the sheets and stood, stretching.

Sirius' room was large with dark grey carpeting and deep, forest-green walls, all four of which had intricate silver designs imbedded in the wood. Heavy, dark green curtains hung across the window on a silver bar, and a dark oak set of drawers sat against one wall, above which hung a large, silver-framed mirror. On the wall across from the solid oak door that led to the landing was a smaller door that opened into a large closet. The king-sized bed was also made of oak, the four feet carved to look like coiled serpents and the sheets midnight-black silk, to match the black comforter.

Sirius kicked the blankets away from him, leaving them for Kreacher to deal with. He despised the filthy thing, but his mother had forbidden him from giving the elf clothes. Setting him free could allow some of the Black family secrets to escape with him, risking the darkening of their family name. When Sirius had proposed the idea that they could just kill him and stick his head on a shelf, his parents had shared a slightly proud and hopeful look that he could be changing for the better, but his younger brother Regulus had cried in protest and horror. Kreacher and Regulus could almost be considered friends; the elf favored Reg over any other family member, and Reg was always overly nice to him because of it.

Sirius scowled at the thought and set about getting dressed. He pulled out his favorite Muggle tee-shirt with a sly smile. It was plain black, with a single word written across the front in white letters: "_Mischievous_". He knew his mother would never let him wear it, so he decided he'd have to put it on under his dress clothes. He stripped off his pajamas and pulled on the shirt and a pair of black denim pants. Grinning at his reflection in the mirror, he was glad he had snuck out to buy the Muggle attire over the summer. He hadn't wanted to meet his classmates wearing a Muggle suit; it was unnatural for an eleven-year-old to wear that sort of thing, and he didn't want to stick out for something like that.

With a sigh, Sirius reached for the suit in question and buttoned the dress shirt over his tee-shirt. Getting the suit pants over his denims was more difficult, but he finally managed it without it looking too suspicious. He heard footsteps on the stairs and quietly threw on the suit jacket, running a hand through his hair to straighten it.

"Sirius!" came Regulus' whining voice from outside his room. "I can't tie my tie. Can you help me? _Please_?"

Sirius sighed and opened the door.

"Come here," he said, stepping aside to let his brother in. Regulus gave him a grateful, relieved look.

"Look, it's not that hard," Sirius said, undoing the knots Reg had managed to tangle his tie into. "The wide end has to be on the right. You cross the right over the left, wrap it around the back, bring it upwards, pull it down through the loop and to the right, wrap it across the front to the left, then wrap behind and up through the loop, the tuck down into the loop on the front. See?"

Regulus was staring down at his finished tie with a baffled expression. Sirius sighed again and tightened the tie, straightening his brother's shirt collar.

"Thanks so much!" Reg said, beaming up at Sirius, who rolled his eyes with a slight smile.

"No problem," he said, patting his younger brother on the shoulder. "Hopefully you won't need help while I'm at school. It'd be hard to help you through owl post."

Regulus giggled.

"Promise me you'll owl me when you get there?" he asked.

"I promise."

"Do you _swear_?"

"I swear on my wand." Sirius raised his right hand with a smirk and Reg smiled, satisfied.

"Thanks," he said. "And thanks for helping me with my tie. I don't know how you do it." The younger boy beamed up at his older brother and hurried from the room, his footsteps scampering back up the stairs to his bedroom.

Sirius chuckled. He really did care about Regulus, even though he could be annoying sometimes. He couldn't wait for Reg to join him in Slytherin which, of course, was where Sirius was going to end up, he was certain of it. His entire family had been in Slytherin, so why would he be any different?

After one last look in the mirror, Sirius double-checked that he had packed everything in his trunk and started downstairs for breakfast. Ignoring the house-elf heads that lined the walls, he took caution to ensure that his Muggle clothes were well-hidden. If his mother or father found out – well, to put it bluntly, Walburga and Orion wouldn't think kindly of having _that_ in their house.

Sirius took his usual seat at the table, on his father's right-hand side. Orion sat at the head of the table as the head of the Black family, and his wife sat across from him. Mrs. Black gave her son a piercing, scrutinizing stare; Sirius felt his hands shaking but, but kept a confident expression on his face. It was just the routine inspection, to make sure he looked perfectly presentable before going out in public.

"Did you wash?" his mother asked sternly. His heart plummeted. After a moment, he swallowed.

"N-No, ma'am," he said, not daring to break eye contact. Mrs. Black's eyes narrowed.

"Did I not ask that you wash before breakfast?" she asked, her voice cold and unforgiving.

"Y-Yes, ma'am," Sirius said quietly.

"And why did you not do as I asked?"

"I f-forgot – "

"You _forgot_?" she said icily. "You use that excuse for everything you do. And where do you think _you're_ going?" Sirius had made to stand up.

"I was going to do as you asked," he said.

"Sit down," Mrs. Black hissed at him. "Don't bother now, you'll have to wait until we've finished eating." Sirius sat and nodded stiffly. He broke eye contact and his gaze landed on Regulus, who was frozen in the doorway, looking uneasy. Sirius gave his brother a small smile and the younger boy walked cautiously to his seat across from his older brother.

Reg stiffened as his mother's stare turned to him – though, Sirius noted, the look she gave _him_ was much less cold and piercing; for her, it could almost be considered kind. Sirius had to refrain from scowling at the unfairness of it.

After giving her younger son a satisfied nod, Mrs. Black summoned Kreacher to serve breakfast.

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><p><em><strong>~ S ~ O ~ B ~ <strong>_

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><p>Sirius soon found himself climbing into, what he was told was called, a limousine. He was fascinated by the sleek, black, Muggle vehicle. Of course, he was unsurprised to find the interior had been magically enlarged – and unhappy to see that his cousins were already in the...what was the word...'<em>car<em>'? Yes, that sounded right. For the third time in an hour, Sirius fought the urge to scowl, the second time having been when Kreacher "accidentally" dropped Sirius' trunk on the owner's foot in the front hall.

He decided on a seat across from Andromeda, who was leaning against the window and blatantly ignoring her sisters. Andromeda had been sorted into Ravenclaw, to the slight disappointment of her parents, but it was the next-best house to Slytherin so they merely passed it off as being due to their daughter's higher intelligence. Her sister Bellatrix, who had been in her fourth year at the time, had teased her about it until she herself graduated a few years later. Bella had left Hogwarts three years ago, but was coming along to see Sirius off...and, more likely than not, to ridicule her young cousin.

"Hello, _Siri_," Bellatrix simpered with a false sweetness. Sirius, again, fought the urge to scowl; he despised that nickname. "Ready for Hogwarts?"

"Hello, Bellatrix," Sirius said emotionlessly. "And yeah, I am."

"You'd better be in Slytherin." Narcissa said with a sly smile from beside her sister. "I highly doubt you'd be lucky enough to end up in Ravenclaw on the off-chance you don't make it, and as for Hufflepuff and Gryffindor – well, let's just say that either house would result in your disownment." She paused and tapped her chin thoughfully. "Or...I suppose, _you_ could get worse than just _disownment_..."

Sirius rolled his eyes at her.

"Then I guess I've got nothing to worry about," he said.

"Quite right," came a voice from somewhere to his right. He looked past Regulus and his mother to see his father giving him a '_You had better now screw this __up_' sort of glare. Sirius swallowed and quickly turned back to the window, where he saw other Muggle vehicles speeding past. He stared curiously as some sort of metal contraption on the sidewalk. It was made of metal rods and had two large rubber wheels, one in the front and one in the back. A Muggle sat perched on a small seat attached to it and was holding tightly to a pair of handles on the front.

"It's called a bicycle."

Sirius looked around and saw Andromeda smiling at him. He grinned back.

"Thanks," he said. Then, after a pause, "What's a bicycle?" Andromeda laughed.

"It's like the Muggle equivalent of a broomstick, except instead of flying, it travels on the ground." Sirius stared at her.

"What's the point of that?" he asked, as if it was the most ridiculous thing in the world. "It doesn't fly?"

"No," Andromeda smirked. "It's not supposed to."

"It should," Sirius mumbled. "Bloody _boring_ otherwise."

"Whatever you say," sighed Andromeda with a lopsided smile.

"_You shouldn't say that!_" Regulus whispered into Sirius' ear. "Mum and Dad wouldn't like you saying that!"

"What, 'Bloody boring'?" Sirius asked. Reg's eyes widened to the size of saucers. Andromeda laughed.

"_Sirius!_" Reg hissed, and Sirius smirked at him.

"Baby," he muttered, so his parents wouldn't hear. Andromeda rolled her eyes.

"Sirius, be nice," she said, smiling at the younger Black brother.

"Come off it!" Sirius protested. "He _is_, Andromeda, and you know it!" Andromeda shook her head as Regulus pouted.

"Whether he is or not, you still shouldn't call him names," she said softly. "You're his big brother. You should be standing up for him, not knocking him down."

Sirius winced. He knew she was right, but, as she said, they were _brothers_. Brothers always fought and bickered once in a while, didn't they? Despite this thought, Sirius let out a sigh and said, turning to Regulus,

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that." Andromeda smiled in satisfaction and Regulus grinned.

"It's alright," Reg said. "Besides, I know you didn't _really_ mean it..."

"Oh!" Sirius said suddenly, turning back to his cousin. "How good are the Quidditch teams at Hogwarts?"

"Thinking of joining, are you?" Narcissa interrupted, giving him an amused look.

"What's it to you?" he asked crossly.

"Oh, I'm sure she just wants to know so she can mark the date on her calender...that way she can come to your trials and watch you make a complete fool of yourself," Bellatrix said with a smirk. Narcissa cackled with laughter.

"Hush, Bella," Cygnus Black said coolly. Cygnus was Sirius' uncle on his Mother's side, and Bellatrix's father. "Where are your manners?" His wife, Druella, gave Bellatrix a soft but pointed look.

"Yes, father," Bellatrix said obediently, though with a slight smirk as Narcissa clamped a hand over her mouth to stop laughing.

"Why don't we maintain silence until we reach the station?" Walburga asked icily. "I do apologize, but all of your bickering is giving me a migraine."

"Yes, Aunt Walburga," Bellatrix and Narcissa chorused immediately.

The remainder of the car ride was spent in near silence, interrupted only by the driver occasionally announcing the time left until they reached their destination.

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><p><em><strong>~ S ~ O ~ B ~<strong>_

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><p>The train station was quite intriguing, in Sirius' opinion, though he didn't dare voice this aloud as he feared what his mother would think of such a comment. Hiding his fascination, he pushed his trolley after the rest of the Black family, all of whom were ignoring the Muggles completely – though, Sirius was nearly certain he spotter a faint glimmer of interest on Andy's face as they passed a girl in her teens wearing bell-bottom jeans, a loose tie-dye shirt, and a matching headband in her waist-length blond hair.<p>

'_Well_,' thought Sirius, '_it sure looks more comfortable than that dress Andy's wearing._'

This was quite true, as the dress in question was a black, formal, floor-length gown with a rather tightly-fitting bodice and sleeves that were a little constricting, in Andromeda's opinion. She planned on transfiguring the horrid attire into something more practical the moment she reached her compartment.

As they neared the barrier between Platforms 9 and 10, Sirius got the best idea for a way to prank Bellatrix as a way of getting back at her. Knowing Bella, her reaction would be priceless.

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><p><em><strong>End of Chapter One<strong>_

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><p><strong><em>AN:_ Thank you so much for reading my first FanFiction chapter posted in the history of forever! Please leave a response! Critiques wanted...PLEASE tell me any and all opinions, good and bad! I "_Siriusly"_ want to know what you think! (Okay, that was just bad...I'll be _sirius_ from now on.) Hahaha...anyways! ****Read my profile for extra information!**

_**~M.J.W.**_


	2. Chapter Two: The Trouble With Potters

_**A/N: **_**This is my first publicly shared FanFiction. (To read more about my first ****_attempts_**** at writing FanFics, see my bio...)  
>Let me lay it all out. I have a very extravagant plot line laid out, to some extent. I have done the math and come up with a few figures. My current story line has a plot involving: 1 Alternate Universe, 3 Generations, at least 12 Original Characters, and a total of about 25 Books. Go ahead, call me crazy.<strong>

**RuterDam:** Thank you so much! I know exactly what you mean about the Blacks. It seems they are different in every fanfiction I read, but I like the idea that Regulus and Sirius were actually close at one point in their lives, only to be pushed apart by their sorting and Walburga's favoritism towards Regulus. I actually did a bit of research on the Black family and found some really interesting information that may pop up in the future!

**EmberlynnFaye:** I'm glad you enjoyed it! I did try to picture what it would be like if I was in Sirius' place. I think he doesn't become too rebellious until he is sorted into Gryffindor and his dear old Mum starts showing favoritism towards Lil' Reg. And yes, I agree that, as you put it, "all the conflicting personalities add extra awesomeness!" Hahaha, true! I want every family in the story to be different, but the Blacks ended up being even more so because of the different environment they live in.

**Already Planning Pranks,**

_**~M.J.W.**_

Yes, I know that there are certain facts proving that Charlus and Dorea Potter were _not_, in fact, James' parents. There is also the fact that IF it _were_ true, then through Dorea Potter (née Black) - who is, coincidentally, the _aunt_ of one Walburga Black - Harry and Ginny would have been third cousins, Sirius would have been Harry's second cousin, and our beloved Prongs and Padfoot would have been first cousins once removed. However, due to the fact that I am simply too lazy to make up new names (and I rather like the names for the characters I created...Charlus is close to Charles, which means 'warrior', and I have James' dad as being an Auror) they will stay as they are.

_**I Solemnly Swear**_

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><p><strong>Chapter Two - The Trouble With Potters<strong>

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><p>In a home in Godric's Hollow, Charlus Potter sat at the breakfast table in the kitchen, reading an article in the Daily Prophet over a pair of rectangular glasses. He heard a loud thud from somewhere above his head and glanced at the ceiling with a light chuckle.<p>

"It sounds like James is awake, dear," he said, smiling and his wife, who was busily cooking breakfast. She flicked her wand to light the stove and laughed brightly.

"It would seem so," Dorea said, smiling over he shoulder at him. A loud boom echoed through the house, followed by a shout. Both Potters stared up at the ceiling in concern. They sat there for a few moments in dead silence until a muffled voice shouted,

"I'm okay!"

Dorea sighed, shaking her head with an affectionate smile as Charlus laughed and folded up his newspaper.

"Shall I go check on him?" he asked, his eyes sparkling with humour.

"It wouldn't be a bad idea," Dorea said, turning back to the stove. "Make sure he didn't kill the dog."

Charlus chuckled as he left the kitchen. He crossed the dining room and headed for the mahogany staircase on the opposite side of the front hall. When he reached the landing, he paused. James was grumbling angrily about something or another, and Charlus leaned in the listen.

"...stupid, bat-bogey'd, good-for-nothing, no-good, lousy, useless ─ _oof!_ ─ piece of junk! What the snitch!"

Raising an eyebrow, Charlus took the last few steps to James' bedroom door and knocked. Silence fell inside the room.

"James?" he called. "Are you alright?" There was a great deal of scuffling and a few thuds before the bedroom door opened a crack and James Potter stuck his head out, his hair a ruffled mess and his glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose.

"Hi, Dad!" he said brightly, readjusting his glasses. He grinned innocently, carefully keeping the door open to the bare minimum, hiding the room behind it from view.

"Hello," Charlus said, amused. "I see you're up. Are you alright?" he repeated. "I heard some pretty loud noises coming from the ceiling and decided to investigate."

"Yup!" James said. "I'm fine!" Charlus eyed him questioningly, checking his son's face for any clue as to what sort of trouble the boy had caused this time. If he hadn't known any better, he would have thought 'Mischief' was James' middle name.

"Can I come in?" he asked, making to pull the door open.

"_NO!_" James shouted, slipping into the hall and slamming the door shut. He flung his arms out and flattened his back against the door. Charlus chuckled.

"I promise I won't get upset with you," he said. "Whatever is on the other side of that door, I won't get angry." James squinted up at his father.

"What about Mum?" he asked slowly.

"I'll help cover for you," Charlus said with a sigh, wondering idly if this was going to blow up in his face. "Just let me survey the damage."

James hesitated before cautiously opening the door. A small streak of brown and grey fur bolted from the room, leaving dirty brown paw prints behind it.

"What did you do to Archie?" Charlus asked, trying very hard not to laugh.

"He was in the wrong place at the wrong time," James said, making a face that resembled a smirk. The elder Potter turned his eyes back to the room and his jaw dropped. In the center of the floor, James' new school trunk sat open, the contents seeming to have been thrown haphazardly about the room. A thick layer of brown, foul-smelling..._something_...covered every inch of exposed surface in the bedroom. He turned slowly to James, who shifted nervously from one foot to the other.

"You're not..._mad_, are you?" he asked. Charlus opened his mouth, trying to think of a response, and ended up laughing instead.

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><p><strong><em>~ J ~ H ~ P ~<em>**

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><p>(<em>About 10 Minutes Earlier...<em>)

Something wet and slimy tickled James' cheek, pulling him out of his sleep. Opening his eyes, he found himself face-to-face with Archie, the one-year-old cairn terrier. The puppy was licking James affectionately, happily wagging his tail from his perch on the pillow beside James' head.

"Hey, Arch!" James said, scratching Archie behind his ears. "Good morning to you, too." Archie cocked his head to the side, as if trying to understand what James was saying. James pushed back the blankets and got up to find something to where.

James' room was mainly red and brown, accented on every wall by multi-coloured Quidditch posters featuring players from the Appleby Arrows team. The furniture was made of mahogany wood; the dresser, bookshelves, desk, night stand, bed - even the armoire in the corner. There was a large chest at the end of the bed filled with Quidditch equipment, and a Nimbus 1000 broomstick sat propped against the desk, where a new owl sat in its cage. When James had gone into Eeylops to get his owl, he had been planning on purchasing a snowy or tawny one. He had been quite surprised when something rad and fluffy had come out of nowhere and landed on his shoulder. The store owner had apologized profusely for what had happened, saying he had no idea how the owl had gotten out of her cage. James had actually made a joke of it ("I guess it's the _owl_ that chooses the wizard, eh?") and decided to buy the owl. She was small, red, and rather fluffy the only thing James could compare her to was a quaffle. Coincidentally, when James got home, he found out that once the owl had a letter or package attached to her leg, she couldn't take off on her own. She physically had to be thrown into the air to start flying. And so, James had named her "Quaffle," much to his parents' amusement.

James scowled at his reflection in the mirror above his dresser, trying and failing to make his hair lie flat. Giving up, he straightened his t-shirt - bright red with white block letters, ""Up to no good" - and turned back to his bed. Archie had fallen asleep curled up on James' pillow.

Smiling to himself, James crouched beside his bed and reached underneath it for his trunk. His fingers found the handle and, with much difficulty, he dragged the heavy luggage into the middle of the room He collapsed beside it, panting slightly. Archie's head perked up and je padded his way to the end of the bed out of curiosity. He leapt to the ground and sniffed at the trunk, pawing at it with one small, padded foot. Laughing, James pushed himself back onto his feet and looked down at his trunk.

_'How in Godric's name am I going to get this down the stairs?'_ he thought. With a sigh, he reached down and lifted the trunk a few inches off the ground He was feeling quite proud of himself. However, he had hardly taken two steps when the handle slipped from his fingers and the luggage landed on his foot with a loud thud, the lid popping open.

James bit back a shout and hopped over to the bed on one foot, massaging his toes as he went. Archie had darted off to hide in the corner, his node poking out from behind the garbage bin to see if the coast was clear. James listened carefully for footsteps. When he was sure nobody was coming upstairs he stood up again, wincing slightly, and started to pick up the things that had spilled from his trunk: a Hogwarts scarf, a few Chocolate Frogs, two or three books, and a wizard chess set. He flung everything back in and pushed down on the lid, fighting to shit the over-filled trunk. After a few minutes of struggling, James decided that it was more work than it was worth and straightened, running a hand through his disheveled hair. Getting a sudden idea, he jumped up on top of the trunk. This, it turned, out was the worst thing he could have done. With a massive bang that shook the house, the lid blasted open, sending James sprawling into his dresser. James shouted, flinging out his arms to break his fall. He squeezed his eyes shut as something brown and wet splattered across the entire room.

After a few moments of shocked silence, James eased his eyes open a crack. Much to his surprise, he found himself completely clean. A circle of carpet around him - as well as a circle-shaped area of the front of his dresser, and Quaffle's cage - were untouched by the brown muck.

"I'm okay!" he called out, knowing his parents must have heard the explosion. Muffled laughter from the floor below only confirmed it. Standing carefully, James took a few squelching footsteps towards his trunk. His heart sank as he realized that more than half of his store of Sludgebombs had been set off, leaving his supply quite depleted; he now only had seven left for pulling pranks.

Sludgebombs were a new variation of Dungbombs, but where Dungbombs left a foul stench in their wake (and brown smudges on the culprit's hands), Sludgebombs were scentless and much cleaner to handle. To make up for their lack of "stink," Sludgebombs had a wider range and covered three times as much surface area as the traditional Dungbombs ever could. It had taken at least three months of searching for James to get his hands on his twenty-count package, and now most of them were gone.

In a fit of anger, James kicked the side of his trunk, setting off a Dungbomb as well. He snarled in frustration and slammed the lid of the trunk down on top of the few things inside it, ignoring the jumbled clutter still heaped on the floor surrounding him. Grumbling to himself, he fought to latch his luggage, oblivious to the books jamming it open.

"Who..._invented_ this thing?!" he grunted, pushing down on the lid. "This is such a - _ungh_ - stupid, bat-bogied, good-for-nothing, no-good, lousy, _use_less - _oof!_ - piece of junk! What the _snitch!_"_  
><em>

He heard footsteps in the hall outside his door at precisely the same moment that a second Dungbomb went off inside the trunk, coating the inside of the lid and popping it open again. There was a knock on the door and James froze, his heart rate quickening.

"James?" said a voice from the hall. "Are you alright?"

Recognizing his father's voice, he let out a sigh of relief - not that he _wasn't_ worried, but if it had been his mother, he would have been in _much_ more trouble. He stood up as Archie sipped from behind the trashcan, covered head to tail in sludge, and began scratching excitedly at the door. Kicking a few books and his cauldron aside, James squelched his way over to the door and turned the handle.

"Hi, Dad!" he said, readjusting his slipping glasses. He grinned innocently as he tried to block his father's view of the room.

"Hello," Mr. Potter said, obviously amused by James' haphazard appearance. "I see you're up. Are you alright? I heard some pretty loud noises coming from the ceiling and decided to investigate."

"Yup!" James said quickly. He pushed Archie back with his foot, who was attempting to get out of the room, and tried to look as innocent as possible as Mr. Potter gave him a calculating look.

"Can I come in?" his father asked, reaching for the doorknob.

For one infinitesimal second, James' eyes widened in horror and he froze, his heart hammering insanely against his ribcage and his mind slowing to a crawl. Than that second ended and time seemed to speed up as panic flooded him.

"_NO!_" he shouted, darting from behind the door and slamming it shut, throwing himself against the wood with his arms out as if blocking the door would help somehow. He heard his father chuckle lightly.

"I promise I won't get upset with you," Mr. Potter said. "Whatever is on the other side of that door, I won't get angry."

James squinted at him, uncertain. On one hand, his father had been a bit of a troublemaker himself back in school, so there was a good chance he would be understanding. On the other hand, his father and mother told eachother everything, so there was also a good chance he'd get in trouble with _her_. He'd been on her bad side enough times to know it was a place he'd rather avoid, if possible.

"What about Mum?" James asked finally, testing to see what his dad would say.

"I'll...help cover for you," Mr. Potter sighed, and James knew he could trust his word. "I'll run interference. Just let me survey the damage."

James hesitated for a fraction of a second, second-guessing himself, before turning the doorknob and letting his father into the disaster that was his bedroom. Archie took the opportunity to make his bid for freedom, causing the elder Potter to stare after the blur with mixed curiosity.

"What did you do to Archie?" he asked, and James saw a grin flicker at the corners of his mouth.

"He was in the wrong place at the wrong time," he said with a wince. Mr. Potter turned back to his on's room and his jaw dropped. James gulped.

His father stared at the room in, what James took to be, stunned shock, before turning slowly to face him. James shifted his feet nervously.

"You're not..._mad_, are you?" he asked, unable to read his father's face.

Mr. Potter opened his mouth as if to speak, and - much to James' surprise and relief - laughed.

"My God, James!" he exlaimed, wiping his eyes. "What...what happened?"

"My trunk wouldn't shut," James said sheepishly. "I...er...jumped on the lid and...well..." He gestured at the mess. His father chuckled as his eyes scanned the room, then paused and frowned, staring curiously at the dresser. His gaze flitted from the furniture to James and back again.

"Why isn't the dresser covered, too?" he asked, walking towards it carefully through the sludge. As he examined the untouched surface, he realized that the mess-free part of the room was in a perfectly spherical shape. "And why aren't _you_ as filthy as everything else?" he added, turning back to his son. James blinked.

"I - I dunno," he said, honestly confused.

'I believe you may have done accidental magic again," Mr. Potter said thoughtfully.

"But I though that stopped once you turned eleven?"

"Not necessarily. Sometimes it takes longer for young wizards and witches to control their magic."

"Do you...you don't think...I mean..." James said, trying to find the words. "You don't think I'll have to worry about that at Hogwarts, do you?" Seeing that his son was obviously concerned about it, Charlus sighed.

"No," he said smiling as James let out a sigh of relief. "Well, you may want to watch your emotions, at least for this year, but you shouldn't have to worry over it too much." He pulled out his wand. "_Evanesco!_" The mess vanished, leaving James' room as clean as it had been before the Sludgebomb accident. With another flick, the scattered contents of the trunk flew through the air, packing in an organized manner into the luggage. The clother were folded, the books stacked neatly to one side, potions equipment fitted into the center, and all of James' pranking supplies were hidden carefully in the back corner of the trunk.

James grinned. Ever since he was young, James begged his parents to show him magic whenever he got the chance. When his mother was busy, he would wait excitedly by the door for his father to come home. Charlus used to work in the Beast Division at the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures - back in the "good old days" as he called it - with his partner, John. But that was before John was fired for some sort of trouble that came up during a case involving some sort of highly dangerous dark creature. After that, Charlus was reassigned to a different case and hadn't heard from his partner since. James was six at the time.

Dorea was a part-time healer at St. Mungo's, and, like her husband, followed a career in dealing with magical creatures. She took patients in the emergency ward on the first floor, for creature-induced injuries. It was not uncommon for her or her husband to be called off to work at a moment's notice, so they were extremely lucky to not have been flooed yet this morning.

And despite living in a wizarding house for eleven years, James still loved it when his parents did magic.

Suddenly, a magically - magnified shout echoed through the house, making him take back that last thought in an instant.

"_James Potter!_" Mrs. Potter shrieked. "_What in Merlin's name have you done to Archie?!_"_  
><em>

Both father and son exchanged wide-eyes looks.

"Let's get downstairs," Mr. Potter said, levitating James' trunk out of the room in front of him. James hastily agreed and followed.

* * *

><p><strong><em>~ J ~ H ~ P ~<em>**

* * *

><p>James leapt nimbly off the banister as he reached the bottom, having slid down instead of taking the stairs. He heard his father laugh softly behind him as he dashed off towards the kitchen, his bright red trainers slipping against the polished mahogany in the entrance hall. He rushed into the room just as his mother began to shout again.<p>

"_Get down here this instant!_" she yelled, glaring flaming daggers at the ceiling. "_JAMES HAR_ - oh," she said, noticing James standing in the doorway. "_Quietus._" She tapped her throat with her wand and her voice returned to normal.

"You called?" James grinned cheekily. Dorea frowned at him.

"Yes, I did," she said. "Actually, I was wondering what happened to Archie."

"Archie?" James asked, trying his best to sound surprised. "Why? What's the matter?"

"He's filthy!" Dorea exclaimed, gesturing at the puppy now sitting beneath a cage she must have conjured up to keep him still. "And he smalls absolutely foul, reminiscent of a certain joke shop product I know you are quite fond of..."

"It's my fault, Dorie, dear." Right on cue, Charlus entered the kitchen. "I dropped James' trunk and a few Dungbombs went off - don't worry, I cleaned it up." He gave James a discrete gesture to play along.

"Dad!" James said, getting the hint and quickly smothering his grin. "I only had about fifteen left!"

"Wait, hold on," Dorea interrupted, pinching the bridge of her nose. "You have_ Dungbombs_ in your trunk?"

"Of course!" James grinned, as if it was obvious.

"Just promise me you won't get into _too_ much trouble at Hogwarts," she said with a weak smile.

"I don't know if I can promise that," James said. "After all, troublemaker _is_ my middle name."

"That's true," Charlus said, chuckling. "I blame myself for that one."

"And you _should,_" Dorea nodded, poking her husband in the chest. "James, just because your middle name _means_ troublemaker, doesn't─"

"Doesn't mean I have to _be_ one, I know," James finished for her, rolling his eyes. "But I can't help it! It's not _my_ fault mischief runs in the family!"

Dorea sighed, giving up. It was no use trying to make him behave. She gave her son an affectionate smile and tousled his hair.

"Alright, sit down. I made chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast...you're favourite."

James whooped and rushed to the table and pulled a few pancakes onto his plate, grinning to himself.

* * *

><p><strong><em>~ J ~ H ~ P ~<em>**

* * *

><p>"Wait, you do <em>what<em>?"

"Just walk through it."

"Walk through it?"

"Walk through it."

"..."

"You just walk through it."

"...This isn't a joke, Dad, is it?"

"No, it's not a joke."

The Potters were standing in front of the barrier between Platforms 9 and 10, and to any passing Muggle who happened to look their way, it would appear as if they were all staring at an ordinary brick wall.

Charlus was explaining to his son how to get onto Platform 9¾, and had just told him the solid brick barrier wasn't solid and that he was supposed to go through it. Obviously, James didn't believe him.

Just then, a family of redheads walked up behind them. An elderly couple - obviously the parents - was leading the way. Behind them, identical twin boys who looked to be in their teens were pushing luggage trolleys and whispering to eachother. Following these two were a young man and woman, both in their twenties, the woman carrying a boy of around a year in age with flame-red hair, who was sucking happily on his fist.

"Oh, are you starting at Hogwarts?" the woman asked cheerfully, noticing Quaffle in her cage.

"Yes, I am," James grinned proudly. "I'm going to be in Gryffindor!" Both of the boys looked up from their whispered conversation.

"Gryffindor, you say?" one of the twins said, stepping in front of James.

"_We_ are members of that fine house," the other said, in a mock-serious voice.

"We haven't introduced ourselves!" the first twin gasped theatrically. "Gideon and Fabian Prewett..."

"...at your service!" the boy called Fabian finished. James bit back a laugh as they bowed dramatically.

"Please excuse my brothers," the young woman sighed, adjusting the toddler in her arms. "I'm Molly, by the way, and this is my husband, Arthur Weasley."

"Fascinating, trains, aren't they?" Arthur grinned, indicating the Muggle locomotives.

"Sure," James said slowly.

"Pleasure to meet you," Charlus said, stepping forward and shaking Arthur's hand. "Charlus Potter. This is my wife, Dorea, and our son, James." Dorea smiled. "I was just explaining to James here how to get onto the platform."

"If you're nervous, you could always run through it instead," Molly said kindly. "It used to help me."

"Er, let's see,' James said. "A random woman I've just met tells me to run into a brick wall in order to get to the other side..." He pretended to look thoughtful. Gideon and Fabian looked at eachother, then back at James.

"Sounds legitimate," they said in unison, grinning. James laughed.

"James, just trust us," Dorea said in exasperation. "You don't want to miss the train, do you?"

"No," James sighed.

* * *

><p><strong><em>~ J ~ H ~ P ~<em>**

* * *

><p>Five minutes later found the Potters standing on Platform 9¾, James' parents smiling as he looked around excitedly. The Prewett twins had gone off to find a compartment, and the rest of the redheaded family had vanished from view.<p>

James couldn't explain in words how excited he was. He had been waiting for eleven years for this. Around him, other Hogwarts students - some, like him, staring their first year, and looking just as giddy or even nervous - moved about the platform, struggling with trunks, chatting with friends, or searching for people in the crowd.

A family coming through the barrier caught his eye. They were all wearing Muggle clothes, but by the disgusted looks on most of their faces, James could tell they were Purebloods. He was about to turn away and ignore then when he noticed that the boy pushing his trolley behind them seemed to be his own age. He watched in curiosity as the boy discretely moved to walk beside one of his relatives - an older girl, around twenty years old perhaps - and slipped a small purple capsule from his pocket to hers.

Feeling the eyes on the back of his eyes, the boy turned to see James watching him. James raised an eyebrow at him and the boy smirked, putting a finger to his lips. Grinning, James silently crossed his heart, knowing exactly what the silent conversation had been.

'_I saw that. What was that about?_'

'_A prank. Don't tell anyone._'

'_I promise._'

"Watch out for the Blacks," Charlus' voice interrupted his thoughts. "They're quite a dark family. Almost all of them have ended up in Slytherin, and they're _very_ involved in the Dark Arts, the lot of them."

James nodded, wondering absent-mindedly who the Blacks were. He turned back to the other boy his age, but he and his family had already vanished into the crowd.

"Mary?" Dorea said in surprise, causing Charlus to look up at her.

"Mary who?" He followed her gaze. "John?" he said, equally surprised.

James saw a small family that had just stepped onto the platform glance around around quickly, almost nervously, for whoever had said their names. The man, John, looked a little disheveled, his jacket wearing thin at the elbows and his face pale and tired. His wife looked much the same, the hem of her skirt a bit frayed. Their son looked smaller than he should have been, thinner too, and James could see a few faded scars on his face and neck.

"Charlie!" John said, grinning as he spotted his old partner.

"Hello, Dora," Clare said with a soft smile. James saw his mother pull her off to the side to talk, away from the men.

"Johnny!" Charlus grinned. "Where've you been? I haven't seen you since the incident at the Ministry." John shifted nervously.

"We...er...had family issues to deal with," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Our sons..._son_ was injured shortly, er, _after_ I was fired..." Charlus nodded in understanding.

"So," John said, changing the subject. "How about you? Are you still working in the RCMC Department?"

"No, actually," Charlus smiled. "I'm an Auror now, specializing in Dark Creatures of course. I've been there for about four years now."

"Excellent!" John actually grinned this time. "I always knew you were Auror material. How's that going for you?"

"Well, actually─"

Clare suddenly re-appeared at her husband's side.

"John, did you see where he went?" Clare interrupted, giving her husband a frightful look. "Is he here with you?"

John looked around quickly.

"Who?" Charlus asked.

"Our son!" Clare sounded frantic as she tried to spot him in swarm of students and relatives. "He was just here! Remus?" she called desperately.

"Don't worry, dear, he couldn't have gone far," John said, putting a hand on his wife's shoulder in an attempt to calm her down. "Sorry, Charlie, but we really should go find him," he said apologetically. "I'm sure he's alright, but_─"_

"It's perfectly fine!" Charlus said, waving it off. "We can talk later." Without another word, the couple vanished into the crowd.

"Can I get on the train now?" James asked the moment they were gone. His parents looked at eachother, smiling at his eagerness.

"Aren't you going to say goodbye to your mother before you go?" Dorea asked, holding out her arms for a hug. James rolled his eyes with a smile before letting her pull him into a warm embrace. When she stepped back, her eyes were shining with tears.

"You're so grown up," she said softly, absent-mindedly trying to flatten his hair. James smiled at her, trying not to roll his eyes again. Honestly, women could be so emotional.

"James," Charlus said, putting a hand on his son's shoulder. "Be good, make friends, play pranks-"

"Charlus!"

"-and please keep your grades up. I'd rather not go deaf because you failed a class." He nodded at Dorea, who glared. "Above all, don't do anything that would get you into trouble..." Dorea gave him a smile, which quickly turned into a disappointed frown as he continued, "...so you can do whatever you want so long as you don't get caught."

James, who had been grinning through the entire thing, laughed. Charlus winked at him before letting Dorea take the floor again.

"Make sure to write whenever you can," she said. "That's why we got you an owl in the first place. And make sure to tell us whether or not you want to come home for Christmas."

"I promise," James said quickly. "Can I go now?"

Dorea sighed and Charlus chuckled lightly.

"Go ahead," Charlus said, grinning as he watched his son push his luggage towards the steaming locomotive as quickly as he could.

* * *

><p><strong><em>~ J ~ H ~ P ~<em>**

* * *

><p>Trunks were heavy, James decided for the umpteenth time. He couldn't quite get his high enough to lift it into the train.<p>

"Want some help with that?" said a voice behind him. He turned around and saw the boy from earlier smirking at his futile attempt.

"Please," James said immediately. The boy lifted the other side of the trunk, and together, they managed to heave the overly-heavy luggage onto the train. James grinned.

"Thanks."

"Anytime," the boy nodded. "What in Merlin's name have you got in there, anyway?"

"Pranking supplies," James said in a loud whisper. The boy gave him a mischievous smile.

"Can I see?" he asked, his gaze flicking to the trunk.

"Sure," James shrugged. He clambered onto the train before reaching out and pulling the other boy up beside him.

"What's your name, by the way?" the boy asked.

"I'm James Potter," James introduced himself, holding out his hand.

"Sirius," the other boy said, shaking it. "Sirius Black."

* * *

><p><em><strong>End of Chapter Two<strong>_

* * *

><p><strong><em>AN:_**** James' middle name is not 'Harry', but 'Harland' which means (among other things) '_to create a disturbance_' though I'm pretty sure I also saw a site somewhere that said it meant '_lover of pranks_'...perfect, no?**

** Thank you so much for reading my SECOND FanFiction chapter posted in the history of forever! Please leave a response! Critiques wanted...PLEASE tell me any and all opinions, good and bad! I found a few misspellings last time I read through Chapter One, and I had to go back and fix them...so pointing those out would be GREATLY appreciated****! Read my profile for extra information!**

_**~M.J.W.**_


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